Journey to the East with Poetic Medicine | John Fox, PPM

IPM Team
May 17
19 min read

Treasuring a Team and The Joy of Teamwork

“For our goal was not only the East, or rather the East was not

only a country and something geographical, but it was the

home and youth of the soul, it was everywhere and nowhere,

it was the union of all times.”

~ Hermann Hesse, The Journey to the East

What is it that brings me joy? Something that brings me great joy is the opportunity to collaborate with others in service to people.

Collaboration is a place to begin. If collaborating people get to know one another, start to get to learn about, accept and trust one another, there is an organic shift towards relating as a team and committing to teamwork.

Teamwork takes collaboration to more present, active, generative, creative, expansive, and deeper levels. What develops with genuine teamwork is an intimate perception by team members that each person contributes a unique and necessary gift to the whole.

The individual does not meld into a kind of glom. Each teammate shines. The team shines together. I believe we are here to treasure those unique gifts and celebrate that whole. This is where joy flourishes.

The joy of teamwork is what I want to emphasize when sharing my journey to the east with poetic medicine. This immense journey included visits in the span of seven brief and seemingly infinite days by car to healing centers in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, and Massachusetts.

Traveling inside that car is the aforementioned team: Jim Elsaesser, Jean Richardson and myself. I want you to know them!

I met Jim in 2015 at Kirkridge Retreat Center. I was part of a symposium that included Naomi Shihab Nye among many others. The Executive Director at Kirkridge was Jean Richardson.

Before we all met and had the chance to work together we were in proximity of one another. If our lives were a novel, this proximity would be a certain foreshadowing of something beautiful to come.

Since that first meeting Jim Elsaesser has served as a funded IPM Poetry Partner bringing poetic medicine to survivors of domestic abuse and on-line “Poetry Club” to young women teens in Afghanistan.

He subsequently graduated from IPM’s 3-year, 3-Phase training, become a Practitioner of Poetic Medicine. He has taken this training into many environments and with such a range of people. In addition to survivors of abuse he is now working with male perpetrators at the Family Peace Initiative.

I have profound respect and appreciation for Jim and in particular for the way he has worked intimately and successfully with clinicians as they both respond to trauma with poetry and psychological acumen.

Jean Richardson became a friend because of our overlapping connections with my becoming a two-time guest to Kirkridge and our mutual appreciation and connection to the Circle of Trust and Courage work of Parker Palmer. Jean and I share friendships with many wonderful people in Trust Circles.

Jean’s life story is one of visionary service. Her service has a dimension of pastoral care that teaches and inspires me. It does not go unappreciated by me that Jean is one of the very best advocates/spokespersons for poetic medicine. You can hear this in the Zoom conversation Jim, Jean and I shared!

Let me fast forward to late winter 2025.

Jim Elsaesser’s Birthday at Kirkridge

This “journey to the east” began with my wish to attend in-person Jim’s 70th birthday on March 1st, 2025. There were many reverberations to the story I am sharing – Jim’s Birthday was being held where we all “met” ten years ago at Kirkridge. Jim, Jean and John – we are all in our 70th year!

I knew it would be a celebration of Jim – reaching that august age! Yet I knew too that it would lean towards recognizing marginalized people Jim dedicates himself to serving. Jim’s daughter Jessica asked me to speak at the birthday and I was glad to say yes to that. Lori Rubin brought blessings as Jim’s partner.

Among his friends, family and colleagues I said:

I admire and am inspired by your commitment to service, to serving others, with this gift you make of poetry-as-healer. I particularly admire that you have worked so closely with clinicians in different settings – Prosline, Delia, Terri, Paige and others -- introducing them to the possibilities, potentials and perfectly sensible, creative ways to support and add value to therapeutic work.

This speaks to your flexibilities, your skillful ability to communicate and your plain openness. I imagine that those quote “clinicians” unquote who have a creative and poetic dimension to their life – just like the clients we all are trying to touch. They feel seen and heard when their clinical training most likely tried to wring this – the creative and poetic – out of them.

Tenderness & Comfort, Truth-Telling & Transformation

Jim and I began our 7-day journey the very next day traveling on Sunday, March 2 to the nearby Unitarian Universalists Fellowship of the Poconos in Stroudsburg, PA. I was asked to speak at the Sunday Service and offered Poetry as Pathway for Tenderness & Comfort, Truth-telling & Transformation.

Jean Richardson would join us at that service.

I had first given this talk when I was invited to keynote at the New Paradigms of Healing symposium at Commonweal Retreat Center in Bolinas, CA. Writing this talk was influenced by a profound desire to respond to the extreme cruelty that is unfortunately prevalent in the new administration.

I wanted us to consider essential human needs and what could live in place of cruelty – tenderness, comfort, truth-telling and transformation.

Here is a portion of my talk:

When I was in 4th-grade I spent a week in the hospital for surgery on my right leg. This surgery wasn’t the first time. Between the ages of 4.5 and 18, I had seven significant surgeries on my right leg and foot. I was born with a genetic disorder, neurofibromatosis. In my case it was a segmental version of NF. It affected my lower right leg.

This time, I came back to Boulevard School with a cast using crutches. Crutches were familiar to me and I was swinging confidently along down an aisle between desks. My right crutch caught on one of those three-prong desk-wings and I fell flat on my face. I turned over, stunned.

My teacher, Mrs. Karole Baird, came over to me; she stopped, I think she knelt, she leaned down and kissed me on the forehead.

I’ll never forget her face looking at me. Her soft face; with its gentle brightness. Her kiss, an act of tenderness and comfort, I will never forget it.

I was nine years old. I am not saying to you I was only nine-years old. I am not saying I was just nine years old. Those words diminish the profundity of that moment. The simplicity. There is no way to quantify or qualify that moment.

That immense moment stays in eternity, a pause in time, my soul and body received her kiss.

In that vulnerable, awkward, embarrassing experience, I learned tenderness and comfort are real. I experienced what they feel like. I learned they can be given. I didn’t think about it; I didn’t think “now there was tenderness and comfort.”

Yet that kiss is the only thing I remember from 4th grade. My body and soul remember.

I believe you can see the gentle brightness in the face of Mrs. Baird.

This intimate story expressed my vulnerability as an adult willing to speak of a tender childhood experience. The stillness felt in the room was awakened to an even keener felt-sense by our deep listening. This may have made time permeable so that people felt closer to their own childhood where tenderness is given a more acceptable place.

Jean Richardson, who I saw sitting in the middle of the room, agrees:

Your vulnerability made others open to their own vulnerability. Even in communities faith we don’t often experience such transparency of feeling. Your talk pointed to what is possible between person & community.

Seasons of Healing for Survivors of Domestic Abuse & Sexual Assault

The next day we drove to Seasons of Healing in Sussex, NJ. I anticipated this with deep feeling because while I was at some distance, I knew, through Jim Elsaesser’s practicum work, his experience at DASI during his training.

In his session reports I heard about the profound happenings with survivors. Because I had the good fortune to attend an early gathering at DASI, I would say this was for me an intimate distance. I could SEE how empowering & vulnerable – at once – this healing process is.

I asked Jim to write his impressions of Seasons of Healing – inviting him to share the purpose, history, who is involved, what happened. Jim began by offering poetry circles at DASI with funding from IPM. Soon he was hired as a spokesperson for DASI.

Jim says:

The Poetry Reading at Seasons of Healing on March 3rd was, in many ways, the culmination of the 2 years of meetings that the group shared together. Beginning in 2023, Seasons of Healing was a community partnership shared between Domestic Abuse and Sexual Assault Services, (DASI) and NORWESCAP of Sussex NJ.

The mission of NORWESCAP:

Our mission is to partner with individuals and families

in creating pathways to achieve their hopes and dreams.

The mission of DASI:

Our mission is to foster mutual respect and healthy relationships by providing comprehensive services to survivors of domestic and sexual violence and their families, community education, prevention programs, and advocacy.

Jim continues:

During those two years of meeting, SOH participants met every week for poetry and art sessions. Art classes were led by Karen Klein, a local artist and art teacher, who brought her extraordinary skills to each class. Poetry groups were led by DASI clinician/advocates, Terri Grenot and Dawn Thompson, along with me, this writer and Practitioner of Poetic Medicine, Jim Elsaesser.

During the two years of meeting, SOH participants embodied the healing power of art and poetry. In so many meetings and so many moments, the group participants supported one another, offered kindness and counsel, laughed when they wanted to laugh, shed a tear when the tears needed to come.

Seasons of Healing has been an extraordinary group that lifted up each other with grace and dignity.

The poetry reading represented one of the last meetings of the group at the NORWESCAP community center in Sussex. The community funder who had supported SOH for the past two years was no longer able to do so. We were given word that, sadly, the end of March would be the last SOH meeting.

But then something remarkable happened! The Seasons of Healing group found a local library where they could meet on a regular basis. And so this group of intrepid women will continue to meet, on their own, sharing healing poetry and art in their own way. And, in the past couple weeks, DASI has shared with me that a new home and funding for SOH is in the works.  

The good work continues. Seasons of Healing will continue, too.

This reflection comes from Bea Morales, a Seasons of Healing participant-

I'll do my best to let you know what that Poetry Reading with John Fox on March 3rd meant to me:

The Seasons of Healing group had a special evening of poetry with Mr. John Fox as special guest. To have Mr. Fox read poetry with the group, interpret our words, and write with us, brought interesting perceptions and impactful meaning to our group.

All guests mentioned how impressed they were by the honesty and impact of the work that the Seasons of Healing group expressed. Jim obviously has had the gentle guiding hand to all members. He has given members freedom to express themselves without fear of retribution or ridicule. Mr. Fox saw the writing, interpreted and mirrored it, and this gave a new perspective.

Without Jim and John, Seasons of Healing would not be as strong and vocal.

I wrote this:

You put me in a dark place

So dark I didn't think I existed anymore

Now I realize

That's what you wanted

~ Bea Morales

Men’s Group: 30 + Years of Friendship

Jim invited me to participate in an on-going Men’s Group. It was held at his stone home built in the year 1801 in Saylorsburg, PA. I felt privileged to be amidst these dear friends. The fact is that in most poetic medicine circles it is rare for men to show up. If there are fifteen people – for instance, in any group -- we would be lucky to have one or two men.

I know this is because men are concerned about appearing vulnerable among women and amongst themselves. They are not mistaken in their thinking – poetry and poem-making invite vulnerability. This concern about vulnerability quickly turns into strong resistance and self-protection.

Mark Lichty, now in his 70s, has been in this men’s group since it began 30+ years ago. He spoke directly to this resistance. Mark attended the talk I gave at the Unitarian Fellowship, and this may have given a greater context for his comments:

John Fox, who gave birth to the concept of poetic medicine, led a session on poetry in our Unitarian Universalist Fellowship and in our men’s group the next day.

John defines a true gentle man. I realized as I listened to him, he allowed me to access that elusive tenderness that maleness seems to obliterate in our culture.

Tenderness seems reserved for, well, the tender sex. I realized that the word was so foreign to me that there was some discomfort in uttering it.

John the true gentle man. He led a poetry workshop at our men’s group bringing to it all of his tenderness and empathy. John, may you help men to find their tenderness.

Mark wrote this poem that afternoon. The capitalization helps him because of limiting effects on his eyesight by a stroke:

IF I COULD ALLOW THE GRIEF TO FLOW

TO ALLOW THE YEARS OF QUAHED , OBLITERATED FEELINGS TO BE UNLEASHED, UNRESTAINED BY SOCIETAL NORMS.

I WILL NOT JUDGE MYSELF

I WILL NOT ALLOW THE GAZE OF OTHERS TO DIVERT ME.

I WILL NOT ERECT BARRIERS TO THAT TORRENT

I WILL BE BRAVE AND ALLOW WHO I AM EMERGE, ERECT, UNASHAMED PROUD TO NO LONGER SLAM THE DOOR ON MY FEELINGS.

I WILL ALLOW THAT TENDER PART OF MARK TO FLOURISH.

This poem arose from Mark in response to a prompt I gave people to use these words, drawn from a poem If I Sing by Martin Jude Farawell:

If I I will not I will

Mark says this:

This poem, written in the sacred sanctuary of the men’s group, captures the depth of my protected feelings.

After two strokes and finding out about the spread of my prostrate cancer to my lymph nodes, I am more aware of my mortality. After being untreated for over 20 years and then taking that active surveillance journey, John’s gift of poetry is a welcome antidote.

Much of disease is thought of as having emotional roots. Can Poetic Medicine truly heal? I don’t know. But I know this: it is life-giving.

The Camphill Movement and Communities

As the leader of The Institute for Poetic Medicine I make a point to stay open to possibilities and pay attention to the connections found in those possibilities. When I speak of “teamwork” this openness is key to a deep appreciation that I am part of a large network where teamwork thrives.

Jean Richardson was telling me about a healing movement called Camphill that has many communities throughout the country, and in particular, in relation with our visits, in PA and NY.

Wikpedia says this about Camphill:

The Camphill Movement is an initiative for social change based on the principles of anthroposophy. Camphill communities are residential communities and schools that provide support for the education, employment, and daily lives of adults and children with developmental disabilities, mental health problems, or other special needs.

There are over 100 Camphill communities in more than 20 countries across Europe, North America, Southern Africa and Asia.

The sweet phrase “a match made in heaven” is true for Camphill and IPM. Serving people with “special needs” is key for who we are. Jean knows about Camphill because her son Alek, who has special needs, attends classes at Camphill Soltane.

I remembered (and this is expanded teamwork!) that my dear friend Joseph Rubano of Oceanside, CA had a connection with Camphill via his long-time affiliation with Rudolf Steiner and Anthroposcopy.

Joseph had met Jean at a Biography workshop held there which was sponsored by the Center for Biography and Social Art for which Joseph is a faculty member and his wife, Patricia, is the director. The connection to Kirkridge came through Patti Smith a long-time friend of both Patricia, Joseph and Jean and a member of the Boards of both Kirkridge and the Center for BSA.

Joseph told me he knew a woman named Elvira Neal who helped to grow Camphill Copake and who was a graduate of the Biography training program director by Patricia. Her lifetime commitment to service was inspiring. She listened. This made a huge difference because she, learning of our qualifications, experience and mutual interest, helped us link with other Camphill’s.

This is such an example and expression of the interdependence and spirit of friendship that vibrates through life when it is whole – and no less in the life of IPM.

Camphill Soltane with Alek & Creative Energy

Our next day, March 4, we visited Camphill Soltane in Glenmore, PA. Alek traveled to Camphill Soltane and he participated in our session.Jean, Jim and I were part of the small circle, as was Raina, the woman who supported Alek. This is to say our turn-out was small. Only Alek. Small did not make any difference!

Truly, nothing is small. Alek filled the room with his presence & voice, intensity & creativity. I was tasked with meeting Alek with his special needs, and the way he enthusiastically presented himself. Did I meet that task? I think the answer is a big yes and that yes is touched by a surprise, a surprise to me, pressed beyond my normal way of thinking.

Alek spoke his poem out-loud and it was scribed on a dry erase board. It is hard to make out the poem exactly … but this is close:

This is Life

Listen with my ears

to anyone speaking

nice questions

answer with words

in a book

Someone speaking

with someone new

in a group together

I need to listen to

You stay with the group

with your team

Hear from Chester County

?? rich, clear & ?? speaking.

~ Alek

Alek captures it! For us, for him. We were speaking – we referred to a poetry booklet – there were nice questions – we all needed to listen – in that room we were a group, a team – Alek was on the team – he was leading the team – we were all new. 

This was even a surprise to Jean. She says:

"In that moment Alek was seen as a whole person with feelings and dreams. No one tried to fix or change him. In that circle he had purpose and displayed it by listening intently and writing copious notes.”

Poetic Medicine — through me, Jim and Jean — welcomed engagement and excitement with Alek. It honored his vivid capacity for energy, creativity and desire to respond to life. More than honoring, this time together celebrated Alek. Do you know someone with special needs who would welcome this, being celebrated? One way to look at life is that we all have special needs. That said, could you find benefit and blessing from poetic medicine!?

Breaking Free at Bridgeway

It is now Thursday, March 6th. Our caravanserai of poetry traveled next to Newton, New Jersey to visit people at Bridgeway Rehabilitation Services. We were going to have an hour poetry session in the morning and a two-hour poetry reading in the afternoon.

Jim has brought poetic medicine to Bridgeway for a few years working with Delia Cortes-Mead, the clinician.

I was stepping into a community of people who had received welcome & deep listening, creativity & a great lifting up. People brought themselves to this accepting and caring circle with substance use, mental health diagnosis, PTSD and more.

Delia wrote to me:

I will start with the name that we chose for our poetry group at Bridgeway. We called it Poetic Medicine after the book written by John Fox.

We started our little group during the pandemic and this gave all participants something to look forward to. The group has grown! By writing and sharing our stories not only did we create a safe space of expression but it is a medicine to our souls.

Jim Elsaesser, the facilitator of our group, with his kind and gentle nature, helped all of participants to trust this process. He instilled practices that gave us the permission to just let go... by mindful breathing, learning to break rules and just have fun!

 In this process Jim encourages us to read the affirmations in Poetic Medicine together in unison and it resonates individual and group empowerment. Reading poetry and using our favorite lines as prompts has helped participants find their voice. Finding one's voice is power! Poetic Medicine Group has been medicinal and grants permission to express our feelings and the license to release what has needed to come out.

Writing our poetry has taught us to "honor the language of our feelings.” This statement needed to be learned as it has been so foreign to us and not allowed. This is "freedom!" Through this group Jim has taught us to be free!

They came to us as a closed box. They had never been valued or recognized. We published an anthology of their poetry. They could share this anthology with family. All Bridgeway staff saw that value. For people to read what they have experienced and shared was such a relief and a lot of people felt freed. Now they are never going to be silenced.

What Delia does not say – by saying so much that she witnessed as truth – she who has the daily responsibility of caring for these people – she recognizes that poetry is one of the best “interventions” and “treatments.” She has supported Jim 100% and more.

Jim told me: “Delia embodies the healing potential of the relationship between the clinicians and practitioners of poetic medicine.”

My experience of Delia is how loving like a mother she is and when required she plays the role of a Master Sergeant, helping people get to lunch on time and otherwise to adroitly hold so many strong and unique personalities together.

Please see the photographs of Delia and I, and of the whole Bridgeway Poetic Medicine Circle.

 Camphill Copake: A Place to Bloom

I have already told you about Camphill Communities. The next day, Friday, March 7 we found ourselves at Camphill Copake, in Copake, NY. We were welcomed by Emily Gerhard, a very bright light of a human being.

Emily, her husband and two daughters live in an extended household that includes five people with special needs. As you can imagine, this is a 24/7 arrangement.

Emily is part of a village Cultural Group that meets regularly to talk about offerings from people who come to them from the outside such as concerts, lectures etc. Poetic Medicine fit into that. She made us feel so welcome. The Camphill way is not hiearchical, as Emily says, “we try to create something that we are all responsible for.”

In describing our visit, she writes:

On Friday afternoon of March 7th, John Fox came to Camphill Village Copake and held a poetry workshop here with us. His friends Jean Richardson and Jim Elsaesser were with him.

 During the workshop we gathered words that are special to us; our favorite words for example, or words that we like the sound of. Because we were quite a few people, many words appeared. It was quite amazing to me because many of those were not words I had considered, or even wanted to see up there on the board. It was a visual reminder for me how different we all are!

 Through John’s help and encouragement we all felt able to create a poem, it was very special to see how empowered and confident people became. It was definitely a very special afternoon.

One of the supports we can offer to a poetry circle is to provide a “scribe” to listen to a person and write their poem down. There is a freedom that this brings. It is way to bow to the oral roots of poetry. Jean speaks of this scribing experience:

The circle kept expanding with the arrival of every new person. It was a Friday afternoon and those gathered were excited to be present. Finally, when the circle filled the room, we began by sharing our names.

 In the circle, we were gathered as one, with one common goal, to write poetry. John was our guide. We, together, were his students. I sat beside Ellen. Ellen was quiet, a bit shy and intent.

 John read several poems to us. Then he read a poem by Tupac Shakur, where he discovered a line that was to be our prompt: “Did you hear about the rose?”

John turned to us with great welcome and we began to write. I became Ellen’s scribe. She looked at me, I held my pencil and after some silence, Ellen said:

Did you hear about the rose

Don’t pick me

I’m pretty. 

I want to bloom.

Ellen read the poem to the whole group with me whispering her own words in her ears. John invited her to stand, and with determination she rose and recited her poem, her voice stronger with every line.

Right before our eyes and she was not only pretty, Ellen received her own wish and she was blooming. This was a snapshot of beauty.

I scribed for Rukin. Rukin is a tall, lightly bearded, gentle man. He took that prompt line from Tupac’s song/poem and confidently said this poem as I wrote:

Did You Hear About the Rose?

The flowers are blooming.

The flowers are changing color.

I like to give the rose to a lovely person.

The weather outside is very warm.

I want to give it to a dear friend.

I have a dear friend in the village.

She is a lovely person.

We went out to lunch together.

Me and my dear friend have

been together for eight years.

I gave her the rose.

She was in tears.

~ Rukin

What a beautifully woven expression of generosity, of recognizing the natural world, of seeing another person, of giving beauty to another in the form of a rose.

I hear practical elements

We went out to lunch together.

natural elements

The flowers are changing color.

and feeling elements

She was in tears.

What a world of wholeness to live in!

Something Rukin said to me that I will always remember – when he heard me speak my “famous" poem When Someone Deeply Listens to You – for which I have received volumes of appreciation…Rukin said, matter-of-factly:

“Good job, John.”

I am cracking up with laughter and crying at the same moment. This is the best, the most satisfying thing I have ever been told about that poem.

On the Way Home

This was a seven-day journey with many blessings. Jean, Jim and I were jovial together those many miles. We saw so many people who have been through so much – suffering & vulnerability, resilience & truth-making. We experienced an abundance of courage & creativity, surprises & sweetness.

Our whole team for the entire adventure — Jim & Jean, Jessica, the people at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of the Poconos, the brave women at Seasons of Healing including Bea Morales, the good folks at Camphill Soltane, Alex, Mark Lichty and the Men’s Group, Delia Cortes-Mead and the Bridgeway poetry enthusiasts, Emily Gerhard, my other connections at Camphill Copake Elvira Neal, Joseph Rubano, poets Rukin and Ellen and the whole shining poetry circle, finally Hope and Peter, they have ALL helped me write this essay. Their presence, participation, and in some cases poetry shared, make this recollection a blessing.

Putting a value on all of this – impossible to do.

I’m laughing as the CEO of IPM because that word – VALUE -- is what I wish all of you, dear readers, would do – value what you have read and let us know. By reading of this journey, you are part of this team. At the beginning of this essay, I wrote:

What develops with genuine teamwork is an intimate perception by team members that each person contributes a unique and necessary gift to the whole.

You are that. We are that. Team members! It is our shared commitment to be a gift to wholeness. IPM invites you as a member of the team to help us financially and by advocating for poetry-as-healer in whatever ways you can.

I have reveled in sharing this journey to the east experience – with a bow to Herman Hesse! I have left stuff out. At Camphill Copake, near the very close of our time together, we visited Jean’s dear pastor friend, Mimi Coleman. Mimi is a minister with the Anthroposophical Society. We attended her Sunday Service and were moved by it. IPM does not advocate for any particular religious or spiritual path. However, I am comfortable saying we cherished the spirit of Light Mimi spoke of, that was beautifully represented on the altar, this may be a good way to close.

One last grace note:

Before I flew home to Mountain View, CA on Sunday, March 9, we gathered Saturday evening for a home-made dinner of lasagna at the home of Jean Richardson. Our “team” was joined by new members, Peter, Jean’s son and his partner, Hope. We decided to write a group poem about our delicious meal.

As poems go, this is no great shakes. That said, at the same moment, this is our brilliant poem and I shall not diminish it:

Our dinner is on the table.

No longer on the table:

We ate it.

The tomatoes were thumbs up.

We had fun

and we laughed a lot.

The Poetry workshops were so much fun –

period!

Thank you for the meal.

Jean, Peter, Jim, Hope and John

Your response to this is welcome. Thank you for taking the time to read.